


The Demon Hour

by olivemartini



Series: The Malec Chronicles [3]
Category: The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, M/M, Malec, city of bones - Freeform, greater demon attack, hidden moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-30 00:39:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10865442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivemartini/pseuds/olivemartini
Summary: He heals him, drawing the poison out of his blood and knitting together skin and bone, using every last bit of energy until he collapses into the chair beside his bed.  In the end, Alec turns his head towards Magnus before falling asleep, his eyes still blue and a fever shining high in his cheeks.  Magnus only sighs and grabs onto his hand, two fingers lying against Alec's wrist where he can feel his pulse, strong and steady underneath his skin.





	The Demon Hour

**Author's Note:**

> okay seriously if any of you guys are better than titles than I am, please help

The letter appeared on his desk, still burning, sparks flying off the paper at a fast enough pace that Magnus couldn't avoid the way the tiny pinpricks of heat bit into his fingers.  Still, the pain was more of a nuisance than anything, and he scanned the message for the important bits- _Alec Lightwood, one of my charges, greater demon poisoning, Valentine's return, you know what kind of man I am, Magnus, but I also know the kind of man you are._ Magnus lets the paper flutter to the ground, ignoring the way that the still smoldering corners were singing black marks into the fabric of his favorite (albeit stolen) rug, not bothering to read the rest.  He had a feeling that he knew what it would say. 

 _He has promised me freedom._ The words stare up at the empty room, in the neat, curling handwriting of a man that has done nothing but study for years.  _I was not enough of a fool to turn that down, or to turn my back on him.  There will be time for others to fix that later, but now a boy -one that I claimed responsibility for, one I loved as my own son, surely more than his own father does- is dying.  I am asking you to come, and know that you will.  With regret, Starkweather._

 

The bell rings at the institute, and after a few seconds where Magnus stares at the door like that could let him see what was going on inside, it flings open, banging into the wall behind it with a thud that echoes in the empty hall.  "Thank God!"  Isabelle wavers on the heels of her boots for a moment and then she flings her arms around him, clutching at him in a hug that knocks the wind out of him.  "How'd you know to come?"

Magnus stares at her, taking in the still perfect hair and the ichor burn on her cheek, the coil of her electrum whip wrapped around her arm tight enough to leave marks, and the blood coating her, so much blood, all of it her brothers and a much too great of an amount.  She does not seem on the verge of breaking, there are no cracks in her surface, but he can see the tension in her shoulders and the underlying strain in her voice. 

"Later,"  Magnus says, wishing only to spare her the pain that comes with betrayal, especially the ache of one that comes when it is someone that is supposed to protect you that turns their back on you.  It might have been this wish to spare her pain that had him reaching up to brush his fingers over her cheek, letting a few strands of magic seep out, just enough to sooth the burn.  It was magic that would have been better conserved until he saw what condition the other boy was in ( _Alec, the blue eyed one at the party, who said that Magnus was good and could not have helped all those horrible things he had to do_ ) but he thinks that there was nothing the elder Lightwood would want more than to spare his little sister pain.  "How's Alec?"

 

 

It appeared to be a stupid question.

Alec, it seemed, was dying. 

Not dying as in a small amount of dying that could easily be fixed, but a painful struggle to breathe kind of dying, the kind that would sap all of Magus' strength and use all of his magic, not even giving him enough time to cast a spell to lessen the pain.  Alec comes back to consciousness with a groan, his head rolling to one side so he could look at Magnus.  His eyes were still the brightest blue Magnus had ever seen, but his skin was covered in sweat and his hair was matted in blood, pain drawing lines across his face that made him look much older than he was.  And his chest... his chest was a gaping hole, with blackish blood seeping out.  The skin seemed to be peeling away from his as Magnus watched, and as the seconds ticked on, Alec turned an alarming shade of green before tilting his head to gag on the contents of an empty stomach.

"Oh, Alec darling,"  Magnus said, cradling Alec's cheek in the palm of his hand.  He had sent Izzy away, told her that she would just slow down the healing process if she was in the room.  "This is going to hurt."

Alec didn't seem to concerned, just placed one blood smeared hand over Magnus', like he was trying to convey that it was alright with him.  Magnus pulled back, wincing as he stared down at the wound, but he did not hesitate before summoning the magic that was always pooled at his fingertips, filling the room with electric blue light.  _It doesn't matter much to him,_ Magnus reasoned with himself, trying to block out the cry that Alec made as the first bit of poison was stopped and reversed in its tracks, making its way back towards the wound.  Magnus had to draw out the poison before anything else, if Alec had any hope of healing.  _This was a boy raised on pain._

 

 

Magus slumps in the chair, exhausted. He had drawn the poison out and stopped the bleeding, knitting skin and bone back together, summoning the remaining shreds of magic to numb the pain.  It seems the rest would have to be left to the runes and Isabelle's administrations. 

"Here."  Izzy pushed a cot closer to Alec's bed, close enough where they were only a few inches apart.  Close enough that should Alec start seizing or vomiting or cease to breathe (or any other number of alarming, magic draining ailments) Magnus would know.  "Do you need anything else?"

Magnus stared up at her blearily, trying to clear his head of the exhaustion weighing down on him.  It's not often that he finds himself completely drained of magic, but after the day he had -summoning a demon in the morning for a client, spending most of the afternoon doing favors for Catarina, attempting to track Jocelyn just out of pure curiosity, and then _this-_ it seems that there is nothing left for him to give.  Magic is like a never ending life source burning within him, and when its out, he's lucky if he can stand on his own two feet.  Yet, he finds it in him to answer.  "Yes, that's fine, thank you."  He drags himself out of the chair, stumbles, and finds the Lightwood girl already taking his arm and steering him towards the makeshift bed, which she had made with a copious amount of blankets and pillows.  It was odd, to heal a shadowhunter and then be cared for as if he was the one who was ill.

"Of course."  She helped him into the bed brightly, pulling back the covers and then tucking them in around him.  Normally, he would have protested, but at the moment, he was so cold.  "You saved my brother."

She turned away then, perhaps trying to hide the tears that had gathered in her eyes.  It had been the first sign of a struggle that she had shown, even as she spent the latest hours of the night scrubbing away bloodstains and holding a trash can for her brother to vomit into, keeping up a steady stream of water bottles and iratzes and blood replenishing runes.  Now, she brushes her brother's hair back, staring down at his now clean face, and leans down to kiss his cheek.  Then, with an affectionate, motherly gesture that Magnus found unsettling, she turned and did the same to him without seeming to think twice about it.

"Good night Magnus."  She walked to the door, quiet even in her high heels.  She could see her tired eyes gleaming in the glow of the witchlight.  "Call if you need anything."

As the door closed with a gentle thump, Magnus turned on his side to stare at Alec, catching sight of the clock as he did so.  Three A.M.  _How fitting,_ he thought wryly, reaching out for Alec's hand.  He takes it, two fingers positioned in a way that lets him feel the pulse pounding in his wrist, strong and steady.  _To be awake during the hour of demons._

 

 

A startled cry wakes him up, shortly followed by a pained groan.

Magnus sits up with a start, shooting straight up in bed and staring at his temporary room mate.  Alec look disheveled, his hair wild and eyes shining a bit with the after effects of the poison.  Still, he had color in his cheeks and was moving, despite the pain it must be causing him.  "Magnus?"

Magnus squinted into the sunlight, wondering how best to go about explaining what had happened.  He wanted to say something very eloquent, or charming, but all that came out was a tired groan.  "By the angel, it's early."  He threw his hand up over his eyes to block the light, then decided that it was no good and that he might as well be some assistance to Alec.  "Are you in any pain?"

Alec looked at him like he was crazy.  "I had my chest cut into pieces last night and you're asking me if I'm in _pain_?"  Still, he looked down at himself, as if considering the question. "Twinges a bit, but since I did spend quite a large amount of last night thinking that I was going to bed dead, I'll take."  He stares at Magnus.  "You saved me, didn't you?"

"Yes."  Magnus became incredibly aware of his appearance, from the rat nest his hair must be to the blood still caked into his skin, right down to the shirt he hadn't bothered to change before running over here, which said **SAY HI IF YOU'RE BI** in sparkly, neon pink colored lettering.  He really, really wishes he was wearing something different. 

Alec seemed at a momentary loss for words, perhaps just noticing for the first time the heavy bandaging around his waist or the cast that Isabelle had put on his leg.  "Thank you."

"You've still got a broken leg.  And I don't have enough magic left to fix it.  Don't think I _could_ fix it, really, the magic it takes to heal that many breaks is too intricate."  He holds his hand out and showed how his magic sputters and dies, as if to prove it.  "I'm sorry."

Alec smiles, something that makes his eyes light up in a very pleasant fashion.  "Don't apologize.  Thank you, really."  He considers Magnus for a moment.  "You can shower here, if you want.  Or go back to sleep.  You look like you could need a few more hours."

Magnus sits back down onto the bed, absurdly grateful that they aren't kicking him out.  _Then again,_ Magnus reminded himself, settling back down onto the pillows.   _Not all children are like their parents._ He means to tell Alec something important, instructions, a thank you, a warning, but before he could do so, he falls asleep.

 

 

Five hours of sleep, a hot shower, and several pancakes later, Magnus is standing in the doorway of the infirmary, ready to go and staring down at a slightly embarrassed looking Alec.

"I guess it's time for me to go,"  Magnus hears himself saying, and is surprised to find he's actually disappointed.

"I guess."  Alec lets him take a few more steps towards the doorway before he speaks again.  "Hey, Magnus?"

"Yes?"  He whirls back around so fast that it shocks him, sending a few wayward sparks out of his hands.  They're lavender this time, not his regular blue, which means that he's still not back to full power. 

"I should have called you."  Alec speaks to the sheets, fingers picking at a thread poking out of the fabric.  Magnus wants to tell him that there's no need for him to do that, that he shouldn't be nervous, but he keeps silent.  "I'm sorry I didn't."

"Well, Alexander,"  The name rolls off of Magnus' tongue like its something sweet, like it belongs to him only.  "You still can."


End file.
